


Floriography

by janusjekyll



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Happy Birthday Janus, I looked at a total of one (1) website to get this information, Language of Flowers, Minor Angst, One Shot, Post-Episode: Putting Others First - Selfishness v. Selflessness Redux | Sanders Sides, Reconciliation, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, you can probably tell what my favorite Janus ship is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:47:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29188053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janusjekyll/pseuds/janusjekyll
Summary: Janus knows that the other Sides have been hurt by his actions, and he knows that forgiveness won’t come unless he is willing to ask for it. Being sincere isn’t one of Janus’s strong suits, and he finds himself relying on something other than words in order to get his intentions across.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders & Morality | Patton Sanders, Up to interpretation - Relationship, any of them could be romantic/past romantic, not all relationships get a happy ending
Comments: 2
Kudos: 29





	Floriography

**Author's Note:**

> The only reason I wrote this is I got inspiration while looking at this flower meaning website: https://gardenerdy.com/list-of-flowers-their-meanings/ so I have no idea if any of this is accurate. If you know a lot about floriography feel free to drag me in the comments, I'm sure I'll learn something interesting. Don't feel like you need to look up every single flower in order to enjoy this fic, you should get the gist of it through context. I planned and wrote this entire thing in a day, which is a record for me, especially since I'm supposed to be doing a lot of other things right now. I guess it's a birthday present to Janus.

Patton’s bouquet was admittedly the easiest for Janus to arrange, emotionally at least. Most of what needed to be said had been already expressed, and the Moral Side seemed, oddly enough, the most trusting of Janus’s intentions. Janus just had to convince him that that trust was well-founded. Maybe, if he was being _really_ honest, he had to convince himself too. He knew that Patton was not the type to look too far into the meaning of a gift, and that any appreciation of symbolic meaning Patton might have would in no way match the effort he was putting into the bouquet. That didn’t matter. Flowers were still flowers, and Janus would work to make sure that the beauty of the arrangement was worthy of the gratitude and respect he had for his fellow Side.  
He started with a large blue syringa cluster, surrounded with pink roses and interspersed with sprigs of baby’s breath. He fondly sprinkled in some pale blue periwinkles, and then hesitated, finally adding some forget-me-nots, almost buried among the other flowers. He tied a silver ribbon around the vase, which was attached to a tiny slip of paper where his name, his real name, was signed in bold yellow ink.  
He slipped it into Patton’s room when he knew the other Side would be absent, then sunk back down into the shadows. His cynical self protested at the faint fluttering of hope in his chest. It was the effect of being in Patton’s room, that was all.

Logan’s would be harder, because Janus knew that his choices would be endlessly scrutinized and any slip into empty flattery would be instantly recognized. Logan was practical, and tended to see things literally, but a coded bouquet was a lot like a puzzle, and Janus knew that Logan wouldn’t mind a little extra research. To say that he had a troubled history with the Logical Side would be an understatement. Although Logan claimed impartiality, he always seemed to view Janus as competition, and, well, Janus hadn’t helped the matter by constantly trying to remove Logan from the conversation. In truth, Logan was the only ‘Light Side’ that Janus feared, and with fear comes begrudging respect. Their adversity was becoming counterproductive, however, especially since Janus knew that they could do so much if they worked together. In other circumstances, he felt like they could have been friends. Maybe that was stretching it. Well-acquainted colleagues with complementary interests. Logan’s bouquet needed to be a compliment, an apology, and an offering all at once.  
The arrangement was a mix of indigo and white. The center was filled with spiderworts, salvias, and clematis flowers, with tall gladiolus blossoms hanging over the sides. He threaded in an occasional white poppy, and finally, used the tallest white violets he could find to fill in the cracks.  
Logan was so absorbed in his work that he didn’t even notice when a vase full of flowers was placed carefully on his desk by a yellow gloved hand.

Janus didn’t have a lot of hope for reconciliation with Roman. He had taken advantage of the Prince’s deepest insecurities, and the one that was probably the closest to being on Janus’s side originally was now one of the most distant. The worst part was, he couldn’t be certain that the only reason he felt bad wasn’t because it didn’t work. Was his greatest regret that he didn’t regret it at all? Roman was not a priority for Janus, so there was no reason to manipulate him further, at least. If this gesture could bridge their division in any way, he wouldn’t be opposed to it. The last thing that Thomas needed right now was discord in the mindscape. And maybe, he wanted to heal the hurt for the same reason he was able to influence Roman so easily in the first place. He reminded Janus too much of himself.  
Instead of arranging the flowers in a vase, Janus bound them together in gold tissue paper. Red primroses with yellow centers, delicate white snowdrops, crimson carnations and geraniums, all framed in a sheath of ferns.  
Janus appeared in the Mind Palace theater right before Roman took his final bow, tossing the bouquet onto the stage and disappearing before Roman could get a good look.

Janus wasn’t looking forward to Virgil’s bouquet. His relationship to the Anxious Side was a lost cause, and choosing the flowers would dredge up memories he tried hard not to think about. He doubted there was a moment he could catch Virgil off guard to deliver it anyways. However, he had gotten this far, and he might as well give himself the high ground. Maybe Virgil wouldn’t even bother to look at the bouquet. Maybe that was for the best. Why did Janus still fear the sting of Virgil's rejection, no matter how many times it had occurred?   
He set to work arranging the flowers. The scabious, columbines, carnations, and hyacinths ranged from a bright violet to a deep indigo, with the crumpled, spiderweb-like white asphodel blossoms standing out sharply in contrast. He couldn’t help but hide a single purple rhododendron in the center, a touch of bitterness he couldn’t push down.  
He decided that he didn’t care if Virgil saw him, yet when he arrived at an empty room he breathed a sigh of relief.

The first reply was Roman’s, and that made sense. Roman likely understood the meaning of his bouquet the moment it arrived. Roman’s arrangement was left outside Janus’s door, since no one could access his room if he didn’t invite them. The vase was lovely (and exactly as over-the-top as one might expect), the sentiments expressed by the flowers, not so much. He winced at the clusters of golden achilleas, the yellow carnations, and pale yellow snapdragons. He could smell the accusatory mint even from several feet away. He brought it into his room anyway. It was fine, he told himself. Roman would come around eventually.

Next came Virgil’s, who had shoved the new flowers into the same vase that Janus had delivered the previous arrangement in. Butterfly weed, tansy, yellow foxgloves, and white narcissuses and tuberoses were haphazardly crowded together. Janus had expected as much, yet he still had to push down a feeling of disappointment. At least Janus had tried. The second vase joined the first in his room.

After that was Logan’s, which included a detailed index of _exactly_ what each flower meant, just in case there was any doubt. There were black-eyed susans (which Logan noted meant impartiality, not encouragement or motivation), chamomiles, and white candytufts. Only the bright yellow furzes betrayed a hint of emotion. Nestled in the center was a peach-colored rose. Janus smiled in satisfaction. Friendship might be a long way off, but Logan was willing to form a practical relationship of respect. That was the most Janus could ask. He set the bouquet next to the others.

He was beginning to think Patton wasn’t going to send him one back when the final vase arrived at his door. His hand flew to his mouth when he saw the flowers. Did Patton know the meaning of what he had sent? He quickly pulled it into his room before anyone could see the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. White periwinkles and edelweisses, yellow adonis and anemones, and most importantly, golden freesias.  
A knock came at the door, and Janus hesitantly opened it to see Patton standing there. “Did you like the flowers?” he asked cheerfully.  
Janus pulled the other Side into a hug.

He didn’t notice until much later the clump of dandelions interspersed with fistfuls of grass that had been left on his desk, and as he put the drooping weeds into a vase of their own, he couldn’t shake a vague sense of loss.


End file.
